George glanced outside as she sat down. It was not yet dusk, though the housekeeper had been and gone which indicated it was after six. Nelson came over and pushed his nose into her hand until she relented and stroked his head.
‘Here you go.’ Anthony put the bowl down in front of her, and another on the floor for Nelson who naturally abandoned her immediately. ‘Toad eater,’ she muttered, picking up her spoon. Keeping her head down, she ate the stew with a single-mindedness that spoke of someone who didn’t know where their next meal was coming from.
‘Going somewhere?’ Anthony commented mildly. She looked up startled, then gave a shrug.
‘Nowhere to go.’
‘Then why are you eating as though it’s your last meal?’
She gave a reluctant grin. ‘Habit.’
‘You sounded yourh’ he retorted, grinning back.
‘Well seein’ as it’s lookin’ as if I might be some toff’s bastard…’ she trailed off and gave another shrug before adding, ‘Likely whoever ankle-sprained me real ma is the one been payin’ the Grimms.’
‘But then again it might be your mother,’ countered Anthony. ‘If she accidently became expectant after an indiscretion, it could be her family paying for your upkeep.’
‘Wot I don’ get is why they din’t jus’ leave me outside the poor ‘ouse? I mean, if I am some nob’s by blow, then it stands to sense they ain’t goin’ to want to ‘ave me creeping out o’ the woodwork all these years later.’ She gave a dark chuckle before adding, ‘I reckon they’re wishin’ they ‘adn’t bothered right about now, an’ once they catch me, they’re more like to murder me in me bed than bring me into the bosom o’ the family.’
‘They might have done when you were alone, but now you have friends who care about you.’
‘Is that wot you are then, a friend?’ George questioned wryly, ‘Shall I start callin’ you Tony?’ She shook her head and climbed to her feet. ‘Lord knows I’m grateful for everythin’ you done for me, but you ain’t my friend, nor could you ever be.’
Without waiting for Anthony’s response, she pushed her chair back under the table and walked towards the door. ‘I reckon I’ll take a turn around the garden,’ she decided. ‘You comin’, Nelson?’
Anthony remained seated as he listened to the diminishing sounds of George and Nelson. She was right. It was a bloody stupid thing to say. When had the lines between them become so blurred? Even before he discovered she was a woman, he’d felt a contentment in her company that he hadn’t found with anyone else – and that included Peter who was as close to him as a brother.
But when he’d seen her in the bathtub… He gritted his teeth, trying to dislodge the image that felt as though it was etched into his brain. His cock told him that was easier said than done. Why she should affect him so, he had no idea. He’d bedded his fair share of women, and God knew, George didn’t have either the wiles nor the refinement of any of them. He found himself chuckling as he thought of her manners. No wonder he’d never realised she was female. She’d lived as a boy for the whole of her life and would have to learn how to conduct herself as a woman.
In some ways, she reminded him of his sisters – especially Prudence. His cousin Mercy too was less than genteel in the way she conducted herself. He was convinced they’d both like George when they finally met her… His internal voice abruptly screeched to a halt. How were they ever likely to meet her? And if they did, it would be with George as a maid. A servant.
Anthony clenched his hands.No. After everything that had happened, he could never accept her as a servant in his house. ‘So what,’ the voice said viciously. ‘You’d prefer her as a mistress?’ With effort, he shoved the thought out of his mind. She deserved more than that. She deserved a husband to take care of her.
But it wouldn’t be him. He was well versed in hisduty. Dear God, he’d never hated that word quite as much as he did now…
Climbing to his feet, Anthony picked up the empty plates. George was right. They weren’t friends, couldn’t ever be. But he was beginning to realise that his reason for thinking so was entirely different to hers…
∞∞∞
As soon as the boy’s name passed her lips, Agnes wished she could have taken it back. The look in the stranger’s eyes went from beseeching to shifty in a split second. And in that same second, she knew that his intentions for the lad were anything but loving. Instinctively, she stepped back, thinking quickly, and before the man had the chance to answer, shook her head and frowned. ‘Oh no, come to think of it, I was thinking of Albert’s lad.’ She gave a small, embarrassed titter. ‘I swear I’m getting so muddled these days.’
The man took a step forward, and her heart began to race. Fortunately, at that precise moment, Lizzy came round the corner. After a last panicked glance towards the now menacing stranger, Agnes hurried towards her friend exclaiming, ‘Lizzy darling, how fortuitous, I was just coming to call on you.’ She linked arms with a bemused Lizzy and, spinning her round, dragged her back round the corner, saying in a loud voice, ‘How is that six-foot, brawny son of yours? Has he taken part in any boxing matches lately?’ Fortunately, Lizzy was entirely too baffled to answer immediately, and since Henry Atkins could only see the women's backs, he was unaware the newcomer was actually staring at her friend as though she’d suddenly turned into a simpleton.
It was only when they arrived back at Lizzy’s house a few minutes later that Agnes finally spoke again, and then her muttering was confined to the word, ‘salts,’ as she sank into a chair and thrust out her reticule.
‘What the devil’s wrong, Agnes dear?’ Lizzy finally dared ask at length. ‘Who was that man you were speakin’ to?’
‘Never mind that,’ Agnes retorted, obviously recovered enough to remember why she was on her way to her friend’s house in the first place. ‘Has Percy told you where Augustus is?’
Lizzy creased her brow, entirely bewildered at the abrupt transition from a mythical six-foot son to a missing husband. ‘When did you lose him?’ she asked hesitantly.
Agnes shot her a withering glance. ‘He went off yesterday after telling me he was seeing old Mrs. Morton off to her eternal rest.’
‘Oh, I am sorry to hear that,’ Lizzy exclaimed, ‘though I confess, I was beginning to wonder if she might still be here when the rest of us are pushin’ up daisies.’
‘Well, that’s the thing,’ Agnes declared. ‘She’s not dead. Well least she wasn’t when I saw her twenty minutes ago.’
‘Oh, well … err … that’s good,’ Lizzy answered. ‘So what did the Reverend say?’
